The Walk . . .

It was about fifteen years ago, as I recall. We had a nice group over for dinner: Roger and Betty Horan, Neil and Donna Burnett, Glen and Harriet McGuire, Duane and Deva Wampler, and Walter and Leslie Knight. The Horans and Burnetts lived in Plainview and spent the winter months here on the Coast. The McGuires had already moved here, as had the Wamplers. They were all in my Sunday school class, except for Walter, who was our Pastor at FBC—Rockport.

Roger, Neil, and Glen wanted to Sponsor Walter, Duane, and me on “A Walk to Emmaus.” They had each gone on a “Walk” and wanted us to have the same experience. We tried to ask some questions about it, but the program rules prohibit a sponsor from sharing much information with his “Pilgrim.” That prohibition requires a great deal of confidence in one’s sponsor. Please recognize that: I am busy . . . I have a family and my time with them is important . . . I have responsibilities at my Church and being away on weekends is difficult. Finally, one must conclude, “Ok, I trust your judgement enough to invest 3+ days of my life in this thing you want me to do.” Honestly, I pretty much felt like I was going to a religious Amway meeting with all of the secrecy, but we all loved and trusted these good men, so each of us agreed to go on a Walk!

Neil, Glen, and Roger had some paper-work to be done, and unknown to us Pilgrims, some money had to be paid for our reservations. After dinner, I took them to my office and helped with the paperwork. After submission of our paperwork, they were soon able to specify the dates we would be away. They told us that they would fly us up in a plane Roger and Neil owned jointly, and that we would be at the Mercy Center in Slayton, Texas, a few miles south of Lubbock.

On the appointed date, they showed up at each of our homes, picked us up, literally hauled our luggage to the car, and delivered us to the waiting plane. Roger and Glen flew us up and Neil waited for us on the other end with ground transportation. Upon landing at a private airport on the other end, Neil loaded us in a suburban and hauled us to Lubbock for dinner, then delivered to the “Walk.”

Upon arrival at the Mercy Center, we were quickly mixed in with a larger group of men, then divided into working groups, and shown what would be our quarters and where all meals would be taken during our stay. Then we were quickly directed back to the larger meeting room. We would soon learn that there were an assortment of men in attendance—each one of them had been asked to give a “talk” on a predetermined and preassigned topic. Each man who would give a talk had at some point in the past been a Pilgrim himself. At the conclusion of each talk, there was an assigned task for the groups to work on. A certain amount of competition developed amongst the groups as we processed and delivered our group’s report for the assignment. While that competition occurred, there was also bonding going on within each group. All of this was headed toward a specific climax.

Each of the talks were relative to some aspect of the life experience. As the days wore on, it became clear to me that all of this was akin to what happened in the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 24:13-35. The account is that on Resurrection morning a couple (I believe a man and his wife) were walking from Jerusalem to their home in a small neighboring community called Emmaus. They were heavy-hearted and emotionally distraught over the crucifixion of Jesus and the events surrounding that tragic event . . . that terrible miscarriage of Justice. Like everyone else, they had heard the report that Jesus had died on the cross and been buried. They simply could not believe it . . . This amazing, ever-so-compassionate miracle-worker who had done so many unbelievable things, who had touched so many lives—including their own—and had filled so many with hope . . . this one they had witnessed raising people from the dead, was now himself dead. They were terribly confused and simply unable to process it all. He had calmed the raging storm that night in the boat; yet, now they felt as if they were in a great storm, but this time there was no one left who could now calm this storm. As they walked along the road, a stranger drew up alongside them and inquired about their sadness. As they tried to explain it to him, he began explaining some things to them and caused them to think outside the box. Upon arrival at their home, they invited the stranger in for breakfast. As they sat at the table, he offered thanks, and in an instant they recognized the stranger to be Jesus, and then He vanished from their sight. They rushed back to Jerusalem to report this amazing event to the other believers. They were delighted to learn that others had also seen him . . . and it was confirmed . . . Jesus was alive, and they were once again filled with hope.

This Walk-to-Emmaus program means different things to different people . . . and as I discussed our Walk with the men in my group, I was surprised by what each man had to say about it. As I thought about the Walk, it occurred to me that the program was specifically designed for individuals who went to Church fairly often and seemed to have an appetite for things spiritual in nature . . . basically seekers! As I thought about the program, it’s design and format, and also considered Luke 24:13-35, it became clear to me that one important point of the program was that just as Jesus had walked alongside that troubled couple that morning, He has also walked alongside each one of us Pilgrims . . . even when we were like the couple and did not recognize Him or understand that He was there looking after us.

Then came what for me was the most important and powerful thing of the retreat . . . it is called the “Dying Moment” . . . that moment of revelation/discovery wherein one discovers, or at least acknowledges, that specific thing in his or her life which must die to enable a closer relationship with the Resurrected Lord. This “Dying Moment” is part of a Communion Service—an observation of the Lord’s Supper. For me, it was a powerful and meaningful experience.

Each time we had a brief break in the program and returned to our room, we discovered an assortment of treats carefully and orderly arranged on our beds . . . that stuff, in Emmaus speak, is described as Agape (love). On the final night, we were transported to a neighborhood Church facility. As we entered the packed Sanctuary we quickly realized that there were no lights on and the light was being produced by hundreds of loving people . . . each one holding a single candle. It was a beautiful sight and I certainly felt that these precious, giving people . . . in spite of not knowing me . . . truly loved me and the other pilgrims. We would soon learn that those folks had been working behind the scenes preparing and delivering the Agape gifts, the meals, the snacks, etc. for our use and comfort. The group is known as the Emmaus Community, and we learned that they had been praying for each of us by name for months.

The Walk-to-Emmaus program is extremely well-planned and operated. It clearly involves a great deal of work, love, planning, and prayer—which is invested behind the scenes long before the Walk takes place. All of those folks in the Emmaus Community had also once been Pilgrims on a Walk themselves and had witnessed, experienced, and been touched by the powerful display of loving concern, and were now pleased to help play that very role in other Pilgrim’s lives.

As we left the Walk, we were each handed a bag. The bag was filled with correspondences authored by folks who love the Pilgrim and therein expressed the author’s feelings, love, and encouragement. The Sponsor had worked with the spouse to get names and addresses and had written and mailed our letters advising friends and family about the Pilgrim’s journey and invited cards, notes, and letters of love and encouragement. To this day, I can remember certain ones of the letters I received and portions of the message.

If you are ever asked to go on a Walk . . . accept the invite quickly. It will be a great experience and will over time become one of your most treasured memories. Moreover, it will build a special bond between you and the person who loved you enough to serve as your Sponsor. Neil Burnett was my Sponsor . . . I love that good man . . . I love his darling wife . . . I love his entire family. In fact, I feel like I am part of his family!

A Walk, by definition, means that one travels some distance . . . I know that I traveled a great distance in those three days. I believe the other Pilgrims in my group did as well . . . in fact, for a few months following our Walk several of them wrote me letters in which they declared that to have been the case. Sometimes, I think about those guys, my fellow Pilgrims. I wonder about them and I pray that their journey is ever drawing them closer to the Master . . .

I am glad that I went!

2 thoughts on “The Walk . . .

  1. I know it took a step of faith to participate in this Walk. I have a feeling you still draw on the things you learned. I regret that I never asked Walter about this pilgrimage. Facebook and face-timing wasn’t invented yet, and the miles between loved ones wasn’t bridged as easily. It is always a blessing to hear you mention shared happy times.

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